Chapter 4: The Final Stand
industrial floodlights. Martha walked toward the center of the pier, the canvas bag heavy in her hand. She wore a coat that was too big, a hat pulled low, but her eyes were steady.
Evelyn was there, standing with two men who looked like they were carved from granite. David was tied to a chair, his face bruised, his eyes wide with fear when he saw his mother.
"You foolish woman," Evelyn laughed, the sound echoing across the dark water. "You thought you could outrun us? Give me the bag, and maybe I’ll let you both leave. Or, I can toss the boy into the harbor right now."
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Martha didn't flinch. She set the bag down. "You think this is about money, Evelyn? You think this is about the files?" She reached into her pocket. She wasn't holding a gun. She was holding a live microphone.
Suddenly, sirens wailed. A dozen patrol cars converged on the docks, blinding searchlights snapping on. The local police, tipped off by the anonymous data dump Martha had initiated from her motel room, poured out of their vehicles.
